


Excuse me, Paladin Danse?

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7585441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A headcanon for my Sole Survivor, Amallia Stark, and Paladin Danse before they even really start flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excuse me, Paladin Danse?

Amallia Stark first met Paladin Danse while wearing her power armor. She burst into the Cambridge Police Office after clearing waves of ghouls, talked a bit, then rolled out on a couple new missions. Maybe a cursory, “Bye,” followed her out the door. She had her main mission and was dead-set on it.

Danse’s cold and stoic personality didn’t bother her in the least. She thought nothing of it as she saluted and made her way back into the field. When she finished those quests, she came back for a few more.

Still in her power armor. Rinse and repeat. Check off the quests, run back to Cambridge, head back out. Clear out ghouls, find tech, run back to Cambridge.

Always in her power armor.

Then, much to her surprise, the Prydwen shows up. Thrilled, she takes off for Cambridge. She and Danse take a virtibird up to the ship, she meets Elder Maxson, meets more of the crew, and joins the Brotherhood.

Still in her power armor.

When Danse throws her a curveball by _actually_ confiding in her for the first time, she rolls with it. But to her, it shows a chink in the armor, one in which she can wedge her questions. _Later_.

And then she talks to Proctor Ingram, finding out she gets a shiny new suit of power armor. Without delay, she heads for the suit and leaves her old armor behind in a rack on the Prydwen.

“Stark?”

Amallia turns to find Danse with a surprised quirk of his brow staring at her. “Yes, Danse? Do you need something?”

“It’s … nice to finally put a face to the name,” he stutters.

And then she finally realizes that it’s the first time she’s been out of her suit in front of him. She flashes a quick smile as she lifts her Aviators to the top of her head, pulling her purple hair from her face. “Hope I’m not a disappointment.”

“God, no–I uh, I mean …” he trails off, caught off-guard, a rare situation for him. “No. You’re perfect.”

Her laughter drives home the silliness of the statement and Danse grumbles to himself an impressive string of curse words of which she didn’t know he was capable. But she leaves him be after that, turning back to the rack.

As she begins to work on this new suit – inspection, upgrades, and paint are important – she notices Danse staring at her, slack-jawed and making no effort to hide it.

“Got something to say?”

Danse, mortified, averts his eyes and replies, “Ah … I uh. A question, if I may?”

Amalla continues working. “Ask, Danse. I’m all ears.”

A hint of a smile finds him and he asks, “What did you do to the leg armor? Those vents and the gaskets. There’s … tubing, but I don’t know what it’s for.”

He’s smart. Smarter than he lets on, that’s for sure. She stands and gives him a flash of her thousand watt smile. “It’s an explosive. When I fall at least five feet, the impact trips the ignition and gas is deployed when I hit a specific rate of acceleration due to falling. At the moment of impact, a small explosion occurs. Nothing more than a grenade, but if that’s _landing on your head_ with the weight of the suit, you’re done.”

Wide-eyed admiration curls his face into a giddy grin. “Can you … show me how it works? That would be a great addition to my suit …”

He might truly want the modification. Or it’s a terrible excuse to work very close with her.

Probably both.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
